Chapter 505: 418: From Extravagance to Frugality Is Hard - Life of Being a Crown Prince in France

Chapter 505: Chapter 418: From Extravagance to Frugality Is Hard

“Long live His Majesty the Emperor!”

“Silesia belongs to Austria forever!”

“Annihilate the Prussian bandits, and His Majesty the Emperor’s glory will shine upon Silesia!”

“Crowning a King of Silesia…”

Outside Schonbrunn Palace, the excited cheers of the crowd surged into the meeting hall on the second floor.

Leopold II, who was discussing the ceasefire plan with Earl Franz and Baron Tugut, furrowed his brow and quick-stepped to the window. He then saw a dark mass of people swelling toward Schonbrunn Palace.

He turned his head to a close attendant, “What are they shouting? What’s happened?”

The latter hurried out to inquire and quickly returned with an army officer, bowing as he spoke, “Your Majesty, it seems the people are celebrating a great victory.”

“A great victory? What great victory?”

That officer immediately said, “Your Majesty, there’s news that Marshal Lacy defeated the Prussians at Legnica and pushed the front to the southwest of Breslau…”

Baron Tugut almost couldn’t hold back his laughter and quickly held his breath as he lowered his head. Breslau was in the heartland of Silesia and the capital of Silesia. The Austrian army was currently blocked at the border of Legnica and couldn’t advance any further, yet this rumormonger did not even think it through and directly helped Lacy sweep an entire province.

Leopold II gave the Foreign Minister a cold glance, angrily saying, “I originally didn’t pay attention to those rumors, and I didn’t expect people to actually believe them.”

He listened to the growing cheers and irritably told the officer, “Why are you still standing here? Dispel the rumors immediately and disperse the crowd.”

Of course, the so-called “Great Victory at Legnica” rumor was spread by Joseph, instructed by Baron Alphonse, the Ambassador to Austria. But this was just an appetizer.

Inside Schonbrunn Palace, Baron Ferrari, a staunch anti-Prussian minister, waved the Vienna Daily News in his hand and stood on the staircase to proclaim loudly, “A great victory! Silesia has never been closer to its return!”

He distributed the newspapers to a few dozen nobles before him, “Take a look, it’s all written here on the newspaper.

“Oh, I suggest that everyone donates to Marshal Lacy’s army. I will start with 300 florins.”

The nobles immediately looked at the newspapers and started discussing excitedly, “Marshal Lacy is incredible, he killed 4,000 Prussian dogs!”

“It’s really a victory, fantastic!”

And those nobles who had seen the news this morning were already instructing their servants to give money, “For Silesia, I’ll donate 300 florins too.”

“I donate 500 florins to the brave soldiers at Legnica…”

In an era without the internet, newspapers were the most authoritative source of information people had, especially for such major events—no one would suspect it—since the Secret Police would rigorously scrutinize every single word.

In fact, not just at the end of the 18th century, but even in the early 20th century, the courts would even use the content of newspapers as evidence for sentencing.

With Ferrari’s vigorous promotion, Schonbrunn Palace quickly became agitated as well. And those nobles with military connections, though skeptical of the news, dared not voice any doubt at this time—for fear of being beaten by the people caught up in the frenzy.

The officer who was about to leave to dispel the rumor was stopped by Baron Tugut, who suddenly thought of something. Frowning, he detained the officer and then approached Leopold II, whispering, “Your Majesty, now may not be the appropriate time to directly dispel the rumors.”

“Oh? Why?”

“Consider this, how is Baron Duden supposed to explain to those outside…”

Leopold II was taken aback and immediately furrowed his brow. Indeed, what could he say? Announce that the great victory was a rumor, and that Austria was not as valiant as the rumors suggested? Say that Lacy had been leading an army of a hundred thousand near Legnica for almost a year and was still dawdling on the borders of Silesia? Tell everyone to disperse because Silesia could not be retaken any time soon?

Due to the Emperor’s reforms, Austria was already unsettled, with various factions filled with grievances. If they were to boldly declare the government’s incompetence now, it would immediately lead to major chaos. Especially those Hungarian nobles with secessionist tendencies, who had been waiting for such an opportunity—they might be encouraged to start a rebellion…

Human nature is such.

If Austria had always been weak, people would have become numb to it. But if someone suddenly told them that Austria had become powerful, that their army was invincible, their demands and expectations would instantly rise. At that point, trying to make them accept the reality of Austria’s weakness would only leave them in anger and despair.

“Wait a minute!”

Leopold II wiped the cold sweat from his brow and hastily stopped the officer, then instructed a servant, “Gather the ministers. We must seriously discuss this matter.”

The Earl Franz, an ally of the British faction, became anxious at once, “Your Majesty, but if we don’t refute the rumors, how can we sign a ceasefire agreement with Prussia?”

He knew very well that if everyone in Austria believed Marshal Lacy had recaptured Legnica, the only thing Austria could do was to seize Breslau in one fell swoop while they had the momentum.

At this time, anyone who dared to suggest peace would inevitably be labeled as a traitor by the entire nation.

Even if it were excused that Austria’s finances were tight and a temporary ceasefire was necessary, once both countries withdrew their troops, where would Legnica, conquered by Lacy, be?

Surely it couldn’t be said that they had given it back to the damned Prussians, could it?

Leopold II waved his hand in irritation, “Let’s also discuss the ceasefire at the imperial council.”

He then left the room with a slam of the door.

Just past noon, Viscount Martel, the “prime culprit” of the fake news scandal, was brought before Leopold II by Marquis Hartman, the head of Austria’s secret police.

And the poor news inspector, who was responsible for reviewing the information, only knew that a merchant named Kugel had asked him to help his nephew, who was caught smuggling banned books, get off the hook by spending an entire day at “Red Boots.”

Subsequently, Martel’s attendant, as well as Harper, the assistant news censor, were both interrogated. The former stated that he had been robbed, tied up in an alley, and wasn’t rescued until this morning.

The latter claimed that he had passed the news of the “great victory” through the review process after seeing a note signed by Martel.

Under the pressure from Leopold II, the Austria’s secret police worked with extreme efficiency, and by noon the next day, preliminary investigation results were placed on his desk.

“That Kugel’s hometown is in Solnok, and he came to Vienna three years ago,” Marquis Hartman reported, “He acquired the Vienna Daily News a week ago, and the fake news originated from this newspaper.

“According to the testimony of Viscount Martel’s attendant, among the men who robbed him, one inadvertently revealed a bit of a Hungarian accent.

“The ones who forged Viscount Martel’s signature must be these men.”

Leopold II stared at the report on the table with a grim expression, “So, this matter is related to the Hungarians?”

“It seems so, Your Majesty.”